You Can Take the Girl Out of the Sea
by 13LadyNatalie13
Summary: Nicole Paxton, an orphan of a tragic fire, has been in the Navy since she was a baby, left under the care of an aging sailor. When he deems this unbecoming of a lady, he sends her to a Caribbean nobleman's house to be schooled in the ways of society. What he didn't bargain for was a death and a adventure with pirates that might end in a romance none expected.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is my first story. To summarize it better, it is the story of my OC Nicole, and her stories. It takes place a few years before Pirates of the Caribbean, around the time that James is the Lieutenant we see him as at the beginning of the first movie. We'll say that he is around 22, just because it makes the most sense to have him that age, to me. At the start of the story, he is a few years younger than that, at around the age of 16. **

**Enough of that, though. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer- I do not own James. I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. I do, however, own anything that is not recognizable. It's a start.**

Swift breezes plucked at my ponytail, sending stray hairs flipping around my face and ears. Giggling, I tried to push them out of the way, only to have more fall into the vacated space. Finally giving up, I just let them hang there. I was currently situated at the prow of the ship, hanging on with an iron grip to the mermaid shaped figurehead adorning the wood there. Next to me was my best friend, James, a wide smile plastered on his face, teeth bright and shinning in his mess of brown hair.

"Amazing, isn't it?" He was saying, glancing in my general direction before looking back towards the sea.

"Yeah. It's so much more… vivid, when you see it from this angle." I said, staring down at the water. I could practically feel the liquid lapping over my face, the salt stinging my nose. It was, as James put it, amazing. I sighed, closing my eyes as the wind whipped up and around me, tickling my skin with it's cooling air.

"Thank you. I wonder why I haven't ever been told you could do this?" I asked, opening my eyes again and looking towards James, staring at him pointedly. I had a feeling that we weren't, in fact, aloud to be here.

"Well, uhm, about that…"

"We aren't supposed to do this, are we?" I asked, glaring at him.

"Nope!" I was ready to snap at him, but I realized it wasn't him that had spoke. Gulping, I looked up, coming face to face with the comments originator.

"Hey, dad…" I said, giving him a winning smile.

"Hello, Nicole. Care to tell me what your doing?" my father, George, said, giving me an equally as vibrant smile.

"Erm, practicing being the figurehead?" I replied lamely, smiling awkwardly.

"Really, how's that working for you?" he asked.

"Great, really good! I think I've got it!" I said, nodding my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see James doing the same, gracing dad with a smile of his own.

"That's great. Now, get up here, before I drag you by your ears." The smile was gone, out of both his voice and his face. Hanging my head, I climbed back up the railing, jumping over and landing in front of him.

"Now, tell me what you were really doing down there. We've got a perfectly good figurehead, we don't need you as a stand-in." Dad said, glaring at me. Even though he was several inches shorter than me, I was terrified.

"James told me about how amazing it was being there, that close to the water, and I wanted to try it myself. He showed me how to hold on, and… you know the rest." I said, sadly lowering my eyes.

"James, is this true?" Dad asked, turning his attention to the boy next to me.

"Yes sir, I take full responsibility." James replied, hands behind his back and head lowered in shame. That was what was great about James, he never backed out on you.

"Well, thank you for fessing up. You still need punished, though. That was a very stupid and dangerous thing to do. I think a full scrub of the deck is in order, and hopefully next time you will think of it when you decide to hang off the front of the ship again. Are we clear?" Both James and I nodded, both inwardly groaning. We hated cleaning, but we wouldn't dare voice it aloud.

"Good, you know where everything is." Dad said, before dismissing us.

"Thanks for backing me up back there." I whispered to James, going below decks.

"I'm afraid it wouldn't matter either way. We both still have to clean that blasted deck. I surprised that the wood hasn't worn away with the all the scrubbing we do." James joked, poking me in the side.

"You'd think we'd learn." I jested back, returning the assault.

"Us? Never."

I laughed at how ridiculously true that was. He wasn't lying about the deck. We got in far more trouble than we should have, but that didn't stop us. In the middle of the ocean, surrounded by men that probably didn't know the definition of a good time, (at least the kid friendly version, I'm sure they drank and seduced quite well) we had to keep ourselves entertained somehow. We couldn't help it if that fun sometimes landed us in danger. Well, I guess we could, but we didn't want to.

Reaching the storage closet where miscellaneous supplies were kept, we gathered the buckets and rags. They were the only items in there that weren't coated with a copious amount of dust.

"I'm glad they don't make us clean this thing out. I'd have dust in places dust shouldn't be for weeks." I said, backing out quickly. Dust wasn't the only thing taking up residence there, and I wasn't too keen on meeting any spiders.

"That's an… interesting mental picture." James said, getting a slightly disturbed look on his face.

"You've got me thinking about it now. Thank you, in the most nonthankful way, for that." I said, getting an equally as creeped-out look on my face.

"You're welcome, in the most nonwelcoming way possible." James replied, smirking.

"Oh, wipe that look off your face and help me clean." I said, rolling my eyes and dropping to my knees, sloshing water out of the bucket and onto the deck.

"What you say, Princess." He teased, doing the same by my side. I rolled my eyes again, moving my brush back and forth across the deck.

James and I had been friends pretty much since the first day we had met. It felt like it had been forever, but it had really only been two or three years. We had met when he had been assigned to this ship, under the command of Captain Arthur Harding. He was well respected for breaking in new recruits, and it was a usual occurrence to have new members, particularly young ones. Young, of course, being 19 and up. I was rather lonely, being only around 13 at the time. Most of the men there weren't interested in a friendship with a young girl, and I was alone most of the time.

And then came James.

He was a small, wiry boy with the most intriguing green eyes I had ever seen. He was almost the same size as me, give or take a few inches, and only a year older than me. Excited, I went to talk to him as soon as possible.

He didn't meet expectations. He was quiet, reserved, rule following, to my outlandish, rebellious, loud nature. (Since then, I've beat that out of him a bit, but it still shows) Trying to get anything other than simple answers out of him was like trying to get a cat to swim, utterly useless. I was soon becoming aggravated, and gave him up as a lost cause.

That was, until he came up with one of the meanest, craziest, most fantastic ideas I had ever heard of. I think that's the moment that I feel in like with him. Pretty much since then, we've been wreaking havoc on the other members of the crew.

I suppose you're curious as to how a girl ended up on this crew, too, right? I suppose I should tell you. I was an orphan that was picked up along the way. My hometown was burned to a crisp, and I was the sole survivor. Captain Harding was sent to investigate for any survivors. All he found was me. Agreeing to take me back to civilization, I spent many days and nights on the ship. My father, George Paxton, was put in charge of taking care of me. He was the one that eventually gave me my name, and a new family.

When the time came for me to be released into the wild, neither of us wanted to let go. After some poking and prodding, Captain Harding agreed, and allowed me to stay and grow on the ship. He doesn't like to admit it, but he had a soft spot for me too, in a grandfatherly sort of way. He is the only one besides my father that has known me since I was a baby, and that had made him like family, in an aloof sort of way.

I live a happy life here, among theses men. Sometimes it's uncomfortable when they remember I'm female and I forget, but generally it's pretty good. The sea and the crisp air are my two favorite things in the world, and they surround me constantly. I've seen the stuffy shore girls, dressed to the nines in their finery and lace, looking like parrots kept in cages. I would never want that. I would rather be a tatty raven, free to fly the skies, than be the most beautiful bird in the world and stuck in a cage.

I think that's enough about me. Back to the present.

As we worked our way down the ship, a man in the customary red and white uniform of a navy man walked up, clearing his throat to catch our attention.

"Yes?" James asked, leaning up and brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

"The Captain wished to see you in his office. Immediately." The marine replied, before walking off.

"Hmm, guess I'm leaving you for a while." James said, climbing back to his feet.

"Whatever, just come back soon, okay? I am not doing the rest of this by myself!" I yelled at him as he walked away, receiving an offhanded wave in response. Rolling my eyes, I contented myself by doing as little work as possible while waiting for him.

Well, what do you think? Please tell me if this is not historically accurate, so I can fix it up a bit. Please, only let the criticism be constructive. Flames will be used to roast your soul.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the wait, I wrote and rewrote this about 17 times!**

The steady swooshing of the brush against the deck was my only companion as I washed away, waiting for James to return.

It took forever.

Either that, or without the second part to our duo, time went slower. It hadn't been more than a few minutes, and already a part of my felt like it died. From boredom, or course. I wasn't that clingy.

Anyways, I figured that I might as well entertain myself with what exactly James had been summoned for. I briefly thought over discipline, before rejecting it. Only the most serious of the serious punishments went through our captain, and besides the usual craziness that we were, no important laws had been broken. My father was the one that watched over us, and was the one who usually set us straight when we toed out of line.

James could have been sent on an assignment, I supposed, but it was about as likely as punishment. We were lower ranking, and any significant matters would be left to those more important than us. Anything that we were to be involved in would most likely be addressed in a large group.

That only left some sort of reward. James, when he wasn't with me, was a hard, steadfast worker, devoted to his duties and getting them done. Quiet and committed, with the right tools and the right amount of time, he could get anything done. I am ashamed to admit that I am his polar opposite. My attention is too flighty for me to devote to one task for too long, and I usually end up botching it, or leaving it half done. That, coupled with the time taken, made remuneration the most likely outcome. Whatever it was, I'm sure that it was duly earned. Our captain wasn't one to fire anything, whether it be recompense or penalization, willy nilly at those undeserving. Of course, I was a tad bit jealous. I knew that I wasn't winning any awards for what I did do, and that I was probably only here because this was the vessel my father was stationed on, but I managed to squash it down. James was a good friend, and well deserving of whatever he got.

As I had been pondering, James had exited the office and was currently standing before me. Oblivious to him, he only managed to obtain my attention when he poked me in the nose with the tip of his boot.

"Ow, what was that for?" I asked, rearing back onto my knees.

"You weren't paying attention. I had to get you to notice me somehow." He said, smirking. Oddly, the usual jest behind his tone was gone, leaving it strangely flat and hollow.

"I suppose that's true. How did it go? Is my Jamesy-Wamesy moving up in the world?" I asked, teasing him with an exaggerated pout on my face.

A brief look of pain passed his eyes before he replied with, "Actually, yes. A good friend of the captain's has requested a younger crewman, and the captain saw fit to apply me for the job. I officially become a member of the crew in three weeks time, when we hit the shores of Barbados."

"Oh James, that's great! You're always telling me that you want to be someone someday; this might just be your chance. We should be celebrating. Why aren't you?" I asked, noticing the sour look that hit his face.

"I have to leave you. I have to leave your father. I have to leave everything that I care about. Yes, I am excited, but I'm also a little bit sad. I'm starting completely over, and who knows if there's another person in the world that can match your level of insanity." I was pleased to note that a lighter tone was shrouded among that last statement, as opposed to the angsty undercurrent of his earlier declarations.

"Oh, I guess so. No one can be this amazing, its something unique I, and only I, have alone. I'm sure you'll do fine though, James. You were born to be a navy man, and don't let something like this effect that. You'll find better people than me; ones that think and act like you, and won't get you in so much trouble. This will be good for you." I said, trying my hardest to remain upbeat. I was happy for James, but I was going to miss my best friend. No one would put up with me besides him.

"I suppose so, but I'm still going to miss you. We might as well make these last weeks count." He said, pulling me up, and offering a slight smile.

"Now you're talking my language!" I said, laughing with a wicked grin on my face.

_~~~Time Skip, the day before James' Departure~_

I lay under the stars, the deck warm under my arms as I traced familiar constellations and patterns. My companion was silent beside me, mentally following the lines that I was making, telling the story of the gods and all the deeds, good and bad, which had been preformed. A heavy silence hung in the air, buoyed down by the realization that this was the last time that we were ever going to do this.

"Their beautiful, aren't they?" I finally said, looking over at him lazily.

"Yeah. It's odd that we have passed under them so many times, and never really appreciated them. Now, that this is last time, it seems so much more vibrant." He said, always the poet.

"Yeah. I'm going to miss you James, how else am I going to stop and appreciate these things?" I said, turning and smiling towards him.

"I'm going to miss you to, Nic. Hopefully we'll meet up some day, when you get your act together and do something with your life." He jested, elbowing me in the side.

"Should be easy, once I get my bad influence out of the way." I joked back, rolling him slightly.

"Hmm. If anything, you're the bad influence on me. With your crazy stunts and all."

"You're the one that swings from the rigging. I merely go along for the ride."

"You co-orchestrated that."

"Only by gathering the materials."

Our conversation continued on like this for quite some time, until both of us finally fell asleep.

_~Morning~_

I awoke with a start, the first delicate rays of morning hitting me square in the eyes and blinding me. Cursing under my breath, I rubbed them and turned the other way, desperately blinking back the tears that had welled up to quell the pain. Finally able to make out shapes, I scanned the area around me. Men had started to bustle around, tending to the deck and sails of the _Ladybird_. The only thing amiss was the fact that my shadow was gone. Peering around, I tried to find him.

Finally, I spotted him, with the captain's arm around him as he was walked off the deck. Both sets of feet were poised to hit the ground, sand billowing under the soles of their shoes. Scrambling up, I hung over the deck to watch their progress. They made their way over to another set of gentlemen, a tall, imposing, gray haired man with brows drawn down in a harsh V. Behind him, a young man with auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail fidgeted, scanning James as he was brought before him. Brief words were exchanged between the two, before the other captain, who I was later told went by the name of Witting, nodded, eyes barley lightening in what I assumed was his version of a smile. All shook hands, before returning to their respective vessels. Naturally, I jumped James for information the minute he was alone.

"So, was that your new captain? What was he like? And who was with him?" I asked in a rush, following him as he gathered his scare belongings into a knapsack.

"Yes, his name is Archibald Witting. He was strict, stern, harsh, bellowing orders like it was his first language. That was one of his crewmen, Andrew I believe his name was." He told me, meticulously folding his stockings and shirts, placing them neatly in his bag.

"Sounds great. I really hope that you have a good time and go places James. You deserve it, for putting up with me all this time." I said, suddenly feeling very emotional as I realized that he really was leaving.

"You do to, Nicky, and I'm sure that you will. Everybody can't help but bend to that insane will of yours." He said, slinging his stuff over his shoulder.

"I guess this is goodbye?" I said, receiving a nod as acknowledgement. Lunging forward, I wrapped in a hug.

"Good luck." I whispered, crushing him to me, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over.

"You too." He whispered, and I could tell by the hitch in his voice that he was fighting emotion to.

We finally separated, me following him up the deck. He was met with lots of back slaps and good luck wishes as he departed, walking down the gangplank and away from me. Turning back one more time, he waved at us all, before disappearing from view.

I was missing him already.

**Chapter 2, finally here! Review, please? **


	3. Chapter 3

Hello all. About 4 years have passed, so there will be some differences in the characters. In other words, enjoy!

Smoke floated through the air as if it were a specter, swirling around the focused, filthy faces of the men onboard like a pesky, bothersome swarm of flies. Too wrapped up in their work, though, the gentlemen didn't chase the gray wreaths from about their heads, merely let them stay until the next bought from the firing guns chased it away. It was an endless cycle: load, light, fire, smoke, repeat, over and over as we volleyed back and forth with our pirate nemesis.

We had been sailing around the coast of Jamaica when we had been caught by a large ship, black as the bottom of the ocean and riddled with large, burly, stinking _pirates. _Completely caught unawares, the crew of the _Ladybird _had no choice but to stand and fight.

So far, we weren't having much luck. When we were fortunate enough to down one man, three more took his place, filled with even more vigor for victory than his replaced crewmate.

In other words, we were well and truly screwed.

I mused upon this as I carted cannonballs to and from my respective mortar. I knew, along with the rest of the crew, that it was hopeless. It was as if these people were cursed, immune to the projectiles and such that we sent their way. Even the ship seemed to reject any blow that hit it. On the other side of the spectrum, the wounded and dying crowed our ship, moaning and begging as they rolled about, pleading for some form of mercy. Terrified to look, I tried hard not to see the holes blown in their sides, arms, and legs. It was impossible to miss the blood, though. Soaking the deck, it pooled in scarlet ponds from the numerous injured, splashing underfoot and making walking difficult. It draped itself like a crimson cloak over everything, from the ruined floorboards to the socks and legs of the ones still standing. It was sickening, and the smell of vomit wafted about with that of spent ammunition and the coppery smell of blood.

I had been rather blessed in my placement. Positioned to the side of where most of the blows hit, the cannonballs really only glanced us, hitting the wood around and behind us. That didn't mean that there weren't injuries, though; one man was nursing a gaping gash in his arm while lighting the fuse, and another had slipped and twisted his ankle in an ugly hole to the right of their group. It was terrifying to me, being a virgin to the true ruthlessness displayed by a large scale attacking party. I was fighting hard to keep my fright locked away. I didn't want to hinder my crewmates any more than necessary by succumbing to emotions. I had seen a brief moment of horror from another man, and had seen that cost him half his body, if not his life. I really couldn't tell if he was bleeding anymore. It blended in with what was already there too well. I had known the bloke, a cheerful and docile fellow who had given me companionship when I was stuck on late night guard duty, or another equally as boring task. I was sad to see him go, sad that he had to be the one and not some other, more worthy, man.

Not that there were many of those left. Only about 20 men were still left standing, most of those harboring a wound or five. They were fighting valiantly though, responding with no hesitation to the captain's orders. Currently, said captain was situated at the front of the boat, alternating between shooting and commanding. I couldn't tell if ever made a shot, but his orders were certainly being received. The effectiveness left a lot to be desired, though. Soon enough, those 20 were reduced to just our group and one more, about 10 or 12 people. The battle was truly lost, now, for if they had wiped those out so easy, the rest of us were sure to follow. We could all recognize in his eyes that he knew that too, and we were right. Sighing in defeat, the captain gave his final command.

"Get to the boats. The coast isn't too far away, maybe a day. Sneaking around the back, you will probably manage to elude them long enough to escape. Go." Nodding his head in the direction of our escape, he commenced firing on the pirates.

"Aren't you coming with us captain?" one man asked, whose arm was gone from the elbow down.

"No, this is my ship and I'm going down with her." He said, eyes and voice grave.

"But, sir-" the same man said, reaching for the captain.

"I said go! No buts!" the captain said, rage boiling up in his gaze.

Standing, the boy finally gave up and ran with the rest of us to the boats, sadly peering towards his captain as he was lowered over the side of the ship. Making sure that we were safe, the captain saluted us one last time, before disappearing from our view. That was last time a navy man saw him alive, for when we turned back, the ship had collapsed to the ocean floor, the only figure on her a slumped man over the deck, blood pouring from the back of his head.

I wasn't the only one that shed a few tears at the sight, my father, who sat beside me, wept openly at the loss of his friend and commander. Here and there, the men joined him, for there wasn't a better officer than the one we had just lost. We sat there like that, bobbing on the water for many hours, mourning over our fallen comrade.

Eventually, we realized that it would be in our best interests too move, least the men find us. We managed to get together enough people with all limbs intact to row. Making steady progress across the water, the sun slowly sunk behind us, bathing us in an eerie, muted light. Settling down, we let the ocean move and rock us all into a much-needed slumber.

When I awoke, the bright rays of dawn had just hit the water, bathing it in a pastel yellow glow. It was peaceful, to say the least, watching the waves absorb the colors from the sky and reflect them back for our viewing pleasure. No trace remained of what had just occurred, all terror and violence gone, to be replaced by the calm, bobbing motion of the sea and the rare peace that it offered.

The faintest remnants of that terror still lingered, though, and I peered about me for any sign of the black hulking mass that was our foe. Relived to find that there was none, I relaxed against the back of the boat, looking around at a more languid pace. My eyes alight with pleasure as they saw the faint outline of land.

"He wasn't lying when he said a day." I whispered to my father, who woke up before me.

"He was an honest, and smart man." He replied, smiling sadly.

"Yeah. Yeah he was." I replied, finishing the conversation as the rest of the people around us awoke.

It wasn't long after that that the boat bumped against the shore, grinding to a halt about halfway. We all piled out, the sun glinting off of the impossibly white sand and hitting us directly in the eyes. Blinking back the light, we made our way up, trying to locate some shelter, food, and medical care.

**I can't write action scenes. Review on ways to improve?**


	4. Chapter 4

Haven't been able to get this one right. :/

Time seemed to slow to the pace of a snail as we dragged ourselves up the beach, some of us toting those of us that couldn't walk on their shoulders. We were parched and injured, the sand blowing into our wounds making us howl in pain. I felt particularly sorry for one crewman named Edward- his arm had been removed from just below the elbow, and the only thing preventing it from having access to the outside world was a thin rag made from a shirt. He was luckier than another man, by the name of Charles. He had died overnight, and we had tossed him into the sea. I hadn't liked the guy, but it was a grim outlook onto what the others might have to face.

Luckily, civilization didn't look to be too far away. We could hear the faint bustle of a port that was bursting with people. Still, it felt like it was an impossibly long distance away. We were tired and worn, parched and bleeding. All of us were about ready to give up when we heard the organized marching of several sets of feet. Those of us that we able to looked up, warily searching for the source of that foreboding noise.

We didn't have to wait very long, as along the ridge we were at the bottom of, a full army appeared, dressed to the nines and loaded with ammo. Guess they were expecting a lot more than a few haggard travelers.

"Who are you and what is your purpose here?" Asked a man in the front, a lieutenant by the looks of him. He had a full head of vibrant orange hair, tucked neatly under his tricorn hat. My father was the first one to speak.

"We were sailors on the HMS _Ladybird. _She was sunk by pirates off the coast, where most of the crew, and our captain, went down. We mean no harm, and are only looking for shelter, provisions, and medical attention." He looked honestly into the eyes of the other man, holding his untrusting gaze steadily.

"Fair enough. Carter, McLain, and Tyler, help them to our fort. The rest of you, back to your stations." The man said, before turning on his heel, to follow his departing soldiers.

The additions were a welcome rest for out sore shoulders, and we made it to the large stone garrison faster than we would have ever gone on our own. A new commander waited for us, and was soon belting orders left and right. Soon enough, we were all bandaged and cleaned, with warm bowls in our hands and full tankards to drink. We all settled back to wait, waiting and drinking like the starving men (and woman) we were.

Soon enough, though, the grub was removed from our hands, and we were presented to a high up official, with a coat and hat signifying his rank. I was assuming commodore, but I wasn't sure. I had never been good with matters such as that, having only been around ranks up to captain before.

"I have heard from my subordinates that you are the sole survivors from a wreck in these waters. The _Ladybird, _under the command of Captain Arthur Harding, right?" At the nod my father gave him, he continued.

"We haven't got anything to say to the contrary, so you will be allowed to stay here, just until we can find another place for you. Those of you missing limbs will be honorably discharged, and sent back home. Any questions?" All he received were nods from all present.

"Good. Groves, do you mind showing them a place to sleep?" he said, nodding to a young, fine looking man. He nodded, before directing us to follow him. I shuffled along with the rest of the men, satisfied that we were going to be well taken care of.

In no time at all, we were directed to a set of chambers near each other, clean sheets covering the twin beds in each room. I was bunked with my father, and soon enough we were settling in.

Sighing in pleasure, I flopped down onto the cot, exhausted and sore from our ordeal. I never thought that I could miss the feel of linen so much. Resting in bliss for a few moments, I closed my eyes. My overtaxed body wouldn't allow me to open them again afterwards, though, and I was soon drifting off into a peaceful, deep slumber.

Some time later

I woke, stretching towards the foot and head of the bed. I don't think I had ever been that well rested. Blinking my eyes against the light pouring from the window, I located my father, staring up at the ceiling in the bed opposite me.

"Good morning." I whispered, my voice coming out in a dry croak.

"Good morning, the waters over there." He said, his voice a flat monotone. I was curious as to why this was; he always greeted me with a warm smile and lots of cheer. I didn't stop to ponder on it too long, though, as the temptation of liquid nourishment was too great. Grasping the receptacle, I took a long swig, sighing in pleasure as it soothed my parched throat. Placing it back in its original position, I turned back to the next most urgent thing on my list. What was wrong with my father.

"Pa, what's wrong? You seem a little lackluster this morning." I asked him, sliding and sitting on the bed beside him. He turned a little towards me, before sighing and speaking.

"Nicole, you know that I want the best for you, right?" he asked, staring intently at me. I nodded, peering at him curiously. What was he playing at?

"I have decided that you will be staying here. I have received my assignment, and I think that it's time that we part ways. You need to learn the ways of a lady." He said, begging with his eyes for me not to freak out.

"What?" I asked, horror and anger rising in my voice. Did he really think that he could just dump me here? Not a chance.

"You will be staying with the governor's daughter. I have it all worked out. This is truly for the best, Nicole. I can't teach you what you need to know. You are becoming a mature and beautiful young lady, Nicole, and a ship swarming with men is not a proper place for you to be." I detected a hint of emotion in his voice, and I softened. I knew he was just looking out for me, but I wasn't sure that I wanted to be looked out for.

Sliding back, I stared at the ceiling as I processed that revilement and what to do about it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the long wait. School can sit and spin on something unpleasant.**

It had been a long half an hour before I finally caved into my father's wishes. I was promised visiting rights, and the picture he painted didn't make it seem that bad. Something told me that wasn't a good assumption to make, but I haven't been very good at paying attention to that voice before.

That's how I found myself being herded into a plain black carriage, the cramped quarters an unwelcome change from the fresh wind and salt of the sea. I finally had to throw open one of the carriage windows, due to the sever claustrophobia I was feeling. It was terrible, being in that dark, musty place. I had a feeling that was one of the things I was to never get used to. It didn't matter of course, though, they were going to shove me into it anyway. That got me to thinking what else they were to do to me. I had a sinking suspicion that it was to involve a corset and layers and layers of cloth. Not my cup of tea, thank you.

It appeared that I had come to that conclusion rather slow, or that the governors mansion wasn't that far away from the battlements, as we were soon pulled up to the back of the house, yanked out rather forcefully by the driver, and left without so much as a "goodbye" or "have a nice day".

"Arsehole." I muttered under my breath, which earned me a dirty look from my father. Grinning sheepishly back, I turned my attention back to the door. A bell hung to the side, with squiggles underneath that looked like nothing I had ever seen before. I was furiously trying to decipher them, but I was interrupted by my practical father, who gave the bell rope a short tug, causing the small signal to emit a high-pitched ring. I was tempted to cover my ears, but gave that up in favor of a wince.

It wasn't long before that beacon attracted someone, and the door opened as a maid in a faded red and brown dress appeared, her chubby face framed by a few curls that had escaped from under her lacy white cap.

" 'Ello, ow may I 'elp you? Lookin' for the mastah, uhm assuming? Wait rahgt here." All this was said with a bright smile alighted on her lips, crooked, blindingly white teeth peeking through.

In no time at all, she was back, this time with company. An aging man with a brown, curly wig was with her, as well as a small, freckled child that looked about with an air of curiosity.

"Ah! You must be George, and his daughter Nicole! Lovely to meet you. Do come in, it's rather hot out here!" He said, a warm, grandfatherly smile gracing his features. Against my will, I started to like him and his easy, naïve air. His daughter, though, was a different story. She was staring at me like I was a beached whale, a freakish mutant that was to be placed on display.

Kid needed a hobby.

Much like the battlements, I was pushed in so many directions I wasn't sure which way was up anymore, though it looked like that was were we were headed. The furnishings looked a lot nicer, and cheery sunlight poured in from large, plate-glass windows. It painted a cozy, rich life.

"This is the first floor, where we will take tea and where most of your lessons will be done. The rooms we just passed were the servant's quarters. We don't go down there, though, unless we are returning in the back. Not likely, though, we use the front unless we want to avoid someone." The governor, Weatherby, as it turned out, chatted, pointing hither and yon. He certainly was a firecracker of a man, and absolutely crazy about his daughter. There wasn't word that he didn't punctuate some great something that she did.

It was getting annoying. His daughter, Elizabeth, seemed to share the same opinion, rolling her eyes and mimicking a yawn as he added another great thing she had done. I almost laughed, but stopped myself. In any other position, my father would have been the same way.

"Well, I think that is all for this floor. I will have one of the maids show you the upper rooms, and all that. I'll have one of them draw up a bath. Elizabeth, come along!" Just like that, I was alone with my dad and facing one of the saddest moments of my life. We merely stood there for a second, staring at each other, before running and embracing.

"I'm going to miss you, dad. More than you will ever know." I whispered, fighting hard the tears that threatened to spill.

"It goes without saying that I will miss you more, Nicole." He murmured back, moisture trickling down his face and onto my neck as he spoke. I nodded once, before pulling away and wiping my hands across my face.

"I will see you soon. In case you forget, though, here's a little reminder." He said, handing me a black cord with a hunk of wood around it.

"It's a piece of the box we found you in. I kept it ever since you were a baby, looking for the right time to give it to you. I think now's that time. Never forget who gave it to you, okay? And never forget where it came from." I nodded, smiling in love, before slipping it over my head. It rested low, almost to my stomach. I hugged him one last time, before saying goodbye to him.

I stood there, watching him catch the carriage back, before ascending the large staircase. Conveniently, someone was waiting to direct me to my room. I nearly gasped in wonder, the bed the fluffiest and cleanest I had ever seen. The whole room looked like it had just been bought yesterday. I wanted to run my hands across everything, but I was soon whisked away by maids, who removed my clothes, and settled me into the bath, which smelled like coconut and vanilla. I was in a bit of a daze- it was all so new and so unexpected that I merely sat there, trying to figure out what was going on as they scrubbed and pinched and poked me. I was finally snapped out of it when someone's hand went more than a little low.

"What are you doing?!" I snapped, wrenching myself away and backing to the farthest corner of the tub.

"Washing you, miss." The culprit said, with an innocent look on her face and a washcloth in her hand.

"I am fully capable. You may leave now." I said, wrenching that away and glaring at her. She shrugged, before following the already retreating line of woman. I finished scrubbing there, and everywhere else, before standing and exiting the tub. I stood there awkwardly, trying to figure out what to do, when the trio of ladies came back in and wrapped me in soft material, rubbing it across my skin. It was a nice feeling, and I soon become drowsy once more.

That stopped, though, at the sight of what I was to wear.

It was frilly. It was lacy. It was utterly far too froofy for my liking. The only redeeming quality was that it was red.

"I'm not wearing that." I said, scowling.

"Yes, you are. Masters orders." The head of the bitch brigade said, with far too much glee in her voice.

"No." I said, smacking anyone who tried to push me towards it.

"Mam, this is necessary. We have a special visitor, and we need you dressed up. Just for this one day, okay? And maybe, you can go see the ocean later." The mention of water was enough to get me into motion, and I grudgingly allowed them to poke and prod every inch of me. It felt like a lifetime before they were done, and I could hardly recognize myself. I shined like a prize racehorse; my normally dull brown hair brought to a high, glossy, dark sheen. My nose and cheeks, normally tan and red from the sun and surf, had been lightened to a fashionable pale color, which were then accented by the dark makeup that shrouded my eyes. I hardly had time to reflect on this, though, before I was pushed down the stairs to greet the quest.

Someone, who it turned out, was very familiar.

**Bah bah bum bah… can you guess who it is? **

**Review and tell me!**


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